"I go away for a few months and suddenly you're pregnant."
"Well, it's not like I did this on purpose!"
On the screen of her phone, Francis laughed, looking down, down, down at her from the rise of her stomach. Michelle had gotten tired of holding her phone as they talked, so she decided to put her belly to use, turning it into a precarious shelf for her phone to rest.
"Besides, it's not like you're just finding out." Michele continued, "I sent you a picture of the ultrasound with everyone else's, and I know you got it."
Elise had made sure to inform her of that, happily; she sent her the recording of Francis ugly crying over their video chat and everything.
Francis' grin was sheepish as he scratched the side of his nose, "well, yes, but still! It's so shocking! By the time I come back home, you'll have a whole entire baby."
"Can't come soon enough, really." She muttered, shifting in place on the couch, trying to stay comfortable.
Matt was at work, and Michelle had a day off. She had plans with her mother in a few hours, to go shopping to buy a few things for the nursery, and while she waited, Michelle had decided to call Francis.
It was the end of February now, winter slowly moving into spring, and Michelle was seven months in and pushing eight, finally hitting the third trimester. Her stomach was huge now, and felt like it had its own goddamn orbit; she's really not supposed to be lying down on the couch the way she is now, has to stay as upright as possible so the baby doesn't crush her too much.
But damn it, this was the only way her back would stop hurting, so she will lie however the fuck she wants for just ten minutes.
The baby decided that that would be the perfect time to make their presence known, a well-placed kick pushing out against the skin of her stomach. The discomfort was worth seeing Francis' eyes bug out, mouth dropping open in shock.
"Holy shit." He whispered, watching her skin stretch and ripple at the baby's movements with fascinated horror. "That's – holy shit, that's horrifying. That thing is inside you, oh my god."
"Yeah, it doesn't feel too great on this end, either." Michelle hummed, lightly stroking her stomach as the wriggling inside calmed down, "They're slowly crushing me right now. I'm gonna have to sit up in a minute."
"Do you know if it's gonna be a boy or a girl?"
"Nah. We've had a lot of chances to find out, but we want to be surprised. It's been the theme of this pregnancy, so we might as well keep it up."
Plucking her phone off her stomach, Michelle slowly heaved herself up, scooting into an upright position and sighing in relief as it took some of the weight off her chest.
"I really can't wait to be done." She sighed, "As nervous as I am, I'm really over not being able to see my feet."
"You're almost done." Francis soothed, "just two more months. Anyway, bring me up to speed – what baby things do you need? Have you thrown a shower yet?"
"Ugh, I really didn't want to go through all that. I had to strong- arm my mom into it, but a baby shower is out; just send me diapers and gift cards."
"That's doable. Want some clothes, too?"
"Yeah, it wouldn't hurt. It'll still be kinda cold when the baby's born, so best to be prepared. Make sure they're gender neutral. Right!" Michelle smacked her thigh, "I'm done talking about me and my spawn –to – be. Now it's time to talk more about you. Is France as glamorous as they advertise?"
Francis snorts, "pah, hardly. I can see why mama left. It's got a few bright spots, though."
"Like the food?"
"Absolutely the food."
Michelle sighed with longing at the thought, "I bet all the cheese is nice. I miss cheese. And chocolate. I miss junk food in general, honestly."
"I'll bring you all the fancy French cheese and chocolate your heart desires when I come back." Francis vows, and Michelle beams at him, cradling her phone in her hands. She missed Francis; she was happy that he got to have this experience, but he was her oldest friend, her closest friend, and having him so far away, especially now, chafed a little.
"Ahh, Francis," she sighed, voicing her thoughts, "I miss you. This internship sucks."
His face softened at her admission, "I miss you, too. I'll be back to bug the shit out of you before you know it, don't worry."
"You better bring your big boy godfather pants along with you when you do."
This time, Michelle had the pleasure of seeing Francis ugly-cry in person.
-o-
Michelle had just finished saying her goodbyes to Francis when the doorbell rang, announcing her mother's arrival.
Shoving herself onto her feet, she waddled down the hall to open the front door and let her mother inside. Noelie Cadeau was a short woman with close cropped hair, grey at the temples, and the source of Michelle's eyes and smile. She's lost count how many times she's heard how much she looks like her mother when growing up.
"Aaaah, let me in, let me look at you! Good lord is it cold."
Michelle shuffled by, giving her mother enough room to squeeze into the entryway, and closed the door as she took off her coat.
"You look wonderful." After hanging up her coat, she reached out, cupping her daughter's face between her hands, "A little tired, though. Have you been resting?"
Michelle made a face, "I try, but now I get heartburn in the middle of the night. It wakes me up. That or I just can't get comfortable."
Tutting under her breath, her mother placed her hands on her hips, "we're gonna have to buy you some tums," she said, stern. "Those are safe to take. And do you have a good body pillow?"
"I have two."
"Well, it's about to be three."
A laugh burst out of her, exasperated and full of affection, "okay, mom. Do you want something to drink before we go? A snack or anything?"
"Just a glass of water would be fine, thank you."
Michelle slowly made her way to the kitchen, her mother at her heels, and she grabbed a glass from the cabinet as her mother sat down at the table.
"How's dad doing?" She asked, turning to the fridge to grab a pitcher of water, pouring the glass halfway.
"Oh, he's doing just fine. Enjoying retirement, at least. He wants to take me on a cruise for our anniversary. A cruise!" Her mother shook her head, as though the thought was silly, but the smile on her face said otherwise.
She beamed at her mother while she tried to hide her smile behind her glass, "aw, mom, that sounds nice! A cruise would be good for you, you'd have fun!"
Her mother scoffed, but her smile wasn't going anywhere, so Michelle paid no mind to her disbelief; she'll be getting vacation pictures in droves.
"Alright, now, enough of that." Draining the last of her water, her mother stood and put her empty glass into the sink. "Are you ready to head out now?"
"Yeah. Just let me grab my coat."
-o-
"Is there anything important that you need for the nursery?"
Michelle hummed at her mother's question, absently rubbing a blanket between her fingers; it was a pale robin's egg blue and soft as a cloud, adorned with a pattern of tiny silver sheep, and she really wanted to buy it.
"Nothing huge, no." She finally answered, giving in and tossing the blanket into the basket her mother had over her arm. "I just need, like, blankets and clothes and stuff. Nothing really major, that's been taken care of"
Their friends took thorough care of that, making sure they wouldn't be left wanting for any baby supplies. Alfred, Marie, and Arthur gave them a gift card each; one for Target, one for Once Upon A Child, and one for Amazon. Al and Matt's mother called her up one day, and quietly offered the crib she saved after Al was born. Michelle already knew that her mother still has most of her baby clothes, folded and stored with care in the attic.
Elise and Matt gave her the biggest surprise of all, coming home from work one night to the two of them grinning and spattered in paint, pushing her down the hall to see that the second room had been cleared out and turned into a nursery. The walls were painted a soft, buttery yellow, little bees dabbled across the walls and gauzy white curtains framing the window. A soft cream rug stretched across the floor, and the crib gifted to them had been set up, sanded and repainted, and was placed in front of the window.
Michelle had never cried so hard in her life.
So no, their baby really wouldn't be wanting for anything, and all Michelle was picking up were soft odds and ends as she slipped into nesting mode.
"What about you? Do you need clothes or anything?" Her mother gave her a once over, eyes sharp, and frowned at the shirt she was wearing. It was one of Matt's, white with blue stripes, and stretched over her globe of a belly; she had taken to stealing more and more of Matt's clothes as the months went on.
She shuffled under her mother's gaze, caught. "Well, I mean – I dunno, I guess I need a few, uh –"
Hitching the basket back up, she reached out and grabbed Michelle's arm, and with stern tugging, they made their way to the maternity clothes.
"You can't just keep wearing Matthew's clothes, for goodness' sake, Michelle – what would he have to wear? Come on, now, we're just going to get a few things."
-o-
The amount of money that was spent on her was insulting.
"'Just a few things', she says." Michelle mutters under her breath, putting the sixth bag of maternity clothes into the trunk of her mother's car, "'We're not going to get that much', she says. Mama, this baby will be here in two months, I don't need all of these clothes now."
Her mother raised an eyebrow at her, opening the passenger door so Michelle can ease her way into the car.
"Well, I'm sure there will be more children in the future, won't there? With proper planning."
The question left Michelle staring at her mother with her mouth hanging open, gobsmacked.
Well, it's not like she hasn't thought about more, of course she has – a little boy, with her coloring and Matt's sweet, soft eyes. Or a girl, with a riot of curls and Michelle's eyes and nose, Matt's smile.
Of course she's thought about more children; she'd be open to it, later on. It wouldn't be anything crazy, like a whole soccer team of Cadeau-Williams children, but at least two. Three, if she felt like pushing it. Maybe even a dog, later on.
Just the typical, stupid American Dream.
Michelle licked her lips nervously, shuffling under her mother's intense gaze, "there might be more," she answered, cautiously. "Later, though. A lot later. We'll see how it goes."
Her mother nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned back to put the last of the bags in the car, "now you'll be prepared for whenever that happens. Use what you need, store what you don't. Simple as that."
The sound of the trunk slamming shut just added another layer of finality to the conversation, and Michelle stood in bemused silence as her mother led the cart to the cart return. "Get in the car and start it up!" she called over her shoulder. "You don't need to freeze yourself waiting for me."
"Your grandma is something else, let me tell you," Michelle muttered to her stomach as she waddled to the passenger side of the car, digging around in her coat pocket for the keys. "Already bringing up more grandkids, pressuring your poor mama –"
"You're not talking quietly enough!" Her mother hollered, "Keep bad mouthing me to my grandbaby and you can pay for your own lunch!"
"Mom, no! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I take it all back!"
-o-
Back at Michelle's home, clothes and baby items quickly put away, they lounged on the couch, Michelle sighing in relief as her mother rubbed at her swollen ankles.
"Ah, child!" Her mother tutted loudly, "why didn't you let me know about this?
"I didn't think it was a big deal!" she protested weakly, sinking back into the couch cushions at the glare she received at her answer.
"Tuh! This child of mine, stubborn as her father."
"Hey, now, don't pin it all on dad. Some of it is you, too."
Michelle snickered at the stink eye she received, which made her mother's stern demeanor crack, chuckling softly along with her. Her laughter was soon cut short by a shove in her middle, stealing her breath.
"Woah, shit – ow! Mom!"
"Watch your mouth."
She rubbed at her forehead, smarting where her mother flicked her, until another shove had her sitting up, wrapping her arms around her belly.
"Oh, oh, oh," she huffed, sliding her hands across the expanse of her stomach, "looks like someone's waking up from a nap. Mom, come here, feel -"
Michelle reached out, grabbed her mother's hand and placed it on her belly just in time for another ripple of movement, the baby shifting and turning. The awed look that comes across people's faces never gets old, and she smugly guided her mom's hand towards every press of an elbow, or tap of a foot.
"Wow. That's –" Her eyes were unmistakably shinier, "that's probably uncomfortable. I remember, I know it isn't."
"They're crushing my insides," Michelle agreed, fond, "I'm probably gonna have to get up to pee in a minute."
"Wow." Her mother didn't take her hand off her stomach, fingers twitching at every move the baby made. She sniffed, rapidly blinking to keep the tears at bay, and Michelle felt her eyes water in response.
"This happened much too soon." Her mother finally said, "And I'm still a little upset that you and Matthew were so careless. But –"
She reached out with her free hand, gently touched her daughter's cheek, "regardless, I'm happy. Happy for you, and proud. So, proud. You'll be a wonderful mom, I know it. It'll be hard, but I know you can do it."
Now she really was starting to cry, and Michelle grabbed her mother's hand, pressing it closer to her cheek.
"Thanks, mom." She sniffled, "thank you. That means a lot, that means so much, thank you. I love you."
"I love you, too, baby. Come, now, let's get you up – I'll help you with dinner. It'd be good to see Matthew, too, before I head home."
Wiping the stray tears off her face, Michelle shoved herself to her feet, with the help of her mother, and hand in hand they made their way to the kitchen.
By the time Matt was home from work, Michelle was sat at the table as her mother put the roast chicken they made on plates, already loaded with sides and buttered rolls.
"Ah, Matthew!" Quickly wiping her hands on a dishtowel, her mother strode forward, cupping his face in her hands and kissing both of his cheeks. "You look so tired, how are you? It's so good to see you."
"It's good to see you, too, Miss Noelie." Matt smiled as she fussed over him, letting himself be herded to the table. "Sit, sit, Michelle and I just finished cooking –"
"No, no, Miss Noelie, let me – I can get y'all drinks, at least. You two did all this work, rest your feet for a little bit. What do you want to drink? We've got water, juice, wine –"
"Oh, no wine, please, I have to drive soon. Water will be just fine. Tell me how you've been, how was work?"
Michelle closed her eyes, and smiled, at peace, cupping her cheek in her hand as her mother sat by her and their light chatter washed over her.
-o-
Early March brought a temperature spike; odd for the season, but not unwanted.
Matt cursed the temperature rise, because it helped push Michelle towards breaking out one of her maternity dresses.
The blouses, he didn't mind all that much; she looked beautiful in them, always, soft and shaping the curve of her stomach wonderfully.
But the dresses. They were something else.
Matt was sitting in the living room, trying to watch a little television, but really, he was distracted. The window in their living room displayed the backyard, where Michelle was, in their greenhouse; the boots she haphazardly threw on fitting surprisingly well with the dress.
Oh, the dress.
It was a simple white dress; the sleeves draped slightly off the shoulder, and made of the softest cotton he's ever touched. When he first saw it, draped across their bed while Michelle was in the shower, he didn't find it all that impressive.
He changed his tune when she walked past the living room to head to the backyard, hair tied back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and the fabric of the dress clinging to her still damp skin. Matt didn't even notice when the remote to the television slipped from his nerveless fingers.
Now here he was, craning his neck, glued to the window as he watched Michelle meander through the greenhouse, checking on the things he so carefully planted. It was hard to look away; she just looked like something from a painting, a beautiful fey thing surrounded by green, smudged and blurred by the slight condensation clinging to the glass.
Michelle was currently rubbing a leaf between her fingers, murmuring under her breath while she absently stroked her belly, and oh, did that dress shape her stomach beautifully. For a second, Matt was envious, wishing he had talent like Elise so he could transfer how she looked right now to paper, to canvas, just to immortalize and have the world see her like he did. He was awestruck, full of wonder that this woman chose him, so many years ago; that she decided to keep him, to stay, to be the mother of his child.
And Michelle was just ambling from the greenhouse, not noticing how she's shaken Matt to his core. She slowly made her way up the path, brushing off any stray bits of dirt that could have latched onto her dress; it was a sunny day today, barely a cloud, and the sunlight made her skin glow.
Matt was starting to wonder if he was about to have some kind of heart attack.
Michelle gave him an odd look when she finally entered the house, swaying into the living room after toeing off her boots, "are you okay? You kinda look like you got punched in the face."
'It kinda feels like it,' Matt thinks faintly. Out loud, he stumbles, "oh, it's just – I just really, uh." He shrugs, helpless, and she gives him a bemused smile at his sudden shyness.
"Wow, you haven't choked on your tongue like that in years."
Moving to where he sat on the couch, she placed on hand on his shoulder for leverage, hitching the hem of her dress up and awkwardly swung a leg over his thighs, carefully scooting forward into his lap. Humming, Matt dragged his hands up her bare thighs before reaching around to lace his hands at the small of her back, pulling her as close as he could.
"My, my." Matt looked down, amused, as the curve of Michelle's belly pressed against his, "I feel like there's just something in between us."
Michelle shot him an unamused look, "that wasn't funny three months ago and it isn't funny now." She said flatly, and Matt felt a gentle push against his sternum. "See, look, baby agrees with me. They think that joke is bad, too."
He smiled down at Michelle's stomach, already besotted, "well, baby's just going to have to live with all of daddy's terrible jokes. I'm sure you'll make it." He unlaced his fingers from behind Michelle, keeping one pressed to the small of her back as he ran a hand down the side of her belly, just in time to feel a shove against his palm.
"Look at that. Baby agrees with me, too."
When he looked up, Michelle's eyes were molten, warm and full to bursting with love. Cupping his face in her hands, she rocked forward, snatching a kiss from his mouth before pressing as close as she could to bury her face in his shoulder. Matt, slightly dazed from the sudden kiss, pressed his cheek against her shoulder in return, lips tingling. She smelled like outside, like the wet earthiness of the plants she ran her fingers over, and her skin was a little warmer from the heat.
"I thought you looked like something from a painting." The admission burst from him, and he felt his cheeks heat up a little, but he pushed on, "when you were out in the greenhouse, with the plants. Just – how your hair looks, and the dress…" He trailed off to run a hand down her side, feeling the soft texture of the dress against his skin, "I kinda wished I could draw half as well as Elise does. Just so I can capture you as you are right now. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Michelle sat up from where she'd buried her face into his shoulder, and her expression was wonderstruck, lips parted slightly in astonishment.
Matt shrugged, a helpless 'well, there you have it' gesture, his free hand wandering back to her thigh and brushing a thumb across her skin.
"Oh, I just –" Matt sighed, adoring, "I just love you so much. It just knocked me out all over again, how much I love you. That you're still with me, that you're giving me this. It was just – so much, all over again. You astound me."
Michelle's eyes shined over with tears as he spoke, and her smile was wide but wobbly. "You and your way with words," she said softly, placing a hand atop the one on her thigh, "how you didn't woo more people in college, I'll never understand."
"Well, being unbearably awkward didn't help my chances much."
"Oh, you weren't all that bad. Snagged me, didn't you?"
"I did." He agreed, brushing a thumb across her skin, "Somehow, I did."
"'Somehow', he says." Michelle snorted, getting a firmer grip on Matt's hand and sliding it higher up her thigh, hitching up the hem of her dress in the process. Matt saw, a thrill trailing down his back, that the bare skin didn't stop the further his hand traveled.
"Sneaky." He chided jokingly, his other hand joining the trek up her dress as his fingers gripped the soft flesh of her hip.
"But isn't this such a nice surprise?" She asked, sweet as sugar, rolling onto her knees while she unlaced her hands from behind Matt's neck, dragging her hands down his chest. Matt raised his hips, helping her out while she deftly undid his pants, not once breaking eye contact.
"It's pretty high up there," he concedes, the admission partially muffled by her kiss.
-o-
Later, Matt draws a bath for her. He even puts her favorite bath melts in and everything, and holds her hands to help her as she eases into the water with a sigh.
"Oh, thank you." Michelle sighed in pleasure as fingers combed through her hair, releasing it from the bun she'd tied it into and clipping it higher up so it wouldn't get wet.
"It's only fair," Matt smiled as he sat next to the tub, clad in only his boxers, the rest of his clothing still scattered across the living room, "you did just kinda fuck me into the couch and all."
Michelle looked horribly smug at that, and reached out to drag one wet finger across his neck, and the very large hickey that she left behind. "I did a very good job," she agreed, terribly satisfied at her work. Matt couldn't complain either; his shoulders still sting pleasantly from the slight scratches she left behind.
Settling further into the tub, Michelle laced her hands atop her stomach, which was poking out of the water like its own little island. Matt leaned against the rim of the tub and dipped his hand into the water, scooping out a handful and dribbling it over her belly, watching the rivulets run down. For a few minutes they didn't speak, the bathroom silent aside from Michelle's humming of nameless tunes and the soft splash of Matt dipping his hand into the water.
"You'll have to get out of the tub eventually." Matt murmured fifteen minutes later, and Michelle cracked one eye open to give him a disapproving look.
"I don't want to."
"The water's starting to get cold. And we have to have lunch. You skipped out on breakfast, so we need to eat."
"You can eat. I'm going to soak in this tub forever."
"I'll make those sandwiches you like." Matt wheedles, "And some lemonade."
Michelle opened her other eye at that, but still looked reluctant at the thought of moving. "My thighs still burn from riding your dick." She sank further into the water, the tip of her chin breaking the water's surface, and she pouted at him, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.
Matt sighed in faux exasperation, lips curving into a fond smile as he cupped a warm hand on the column of her neck, "I'll rub cocoa butter on your stretch marks after we eat," he adds, brushing a thumb where her neck meets her shoulder. There was an imprint of his teeth, there, and he winced slightly, hoping it didn't ache too much.
"You drive a hard bargain, Mister Williams," she said solemnly, "but I'll take you up on your offer. But you have to wash my back before that."
"Deal," he agrees, already reaching for the washcloth.
-o-
A few weeks later, Michelle decides to give Al a visit.
"Good lord," Al marvels as he opens the door, stepping aside to let her waddle in, "I can't believe Matt even let you leave the house. You look like you're about to pop."
"Yeah, well," she huffed, dropping her bag by the door and kicking off her flats, "shut up. What Matt doesn't know won't kill him. Help me to the couch."
"You feelin' alright?" Al asks, taking Michelle's hand and leading her to the couch, where the television was still blaring away. The window leading to the small balcony was open, the curtains fluttering now and then with the warm breeze, the faint scent of blooming flowers drifting in. It was a beautiful April day, the sky as blue as can be and not a cloud in sight, but it seemed to do nothing for Michelle, who sank into the couch with an aggravated sigh, brows crinkled with a frown.
"My back's bothering me." She gritted out, already beginning to shift and rock on the couch, "I think I slept wrong, or twisted it, or something, because it hurts." Arching her back as best she could, she grabbed one of the pillows and shoved it behind her, hoping it would take some of the strain off her back.
Al sat next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "do you think rubbing it will help?"
"Matt tried that this morning," she sighed, "it helped for a little while, but then my back just tensed up again."
"Maybe a heat wrap or something?"
"Yeah, maybe. Do you have one?"
So Al shot to his feet, off to grab the tube sock Marie had filled with rice and tied off and throw it in the microwave. Fifteen seconds later and he was back, his little homemade heat pack toasty warm and ready to go. Michelle groaned her thanks as Al placed the heat pad where she was hurting most, hoping that would help the muscles loosen up.
For a while, it was nice, the heat a pleasant distraction, but eventually that faded, and Michelle was back to shifting and grunting against the couch cushions, trying to find a comfortable position.
"I can't do this!" she burst out, twenty minutes later, "Al, Al please help me up. I need to move."
"You think that'll help?" Al asked, gripping Michelle by her elbows and gently pulling her to her feet. "I don't know," she groaned, "so far nothing has helped. But I just – I've gotta move."
With that, she began to pace, grumbling, pressing the heels of her hand into the small of her back as hard as she could, moving in a circle from the living room, to the kitchen, and back again.
Al, still sitting on the couch, followed her movements with a worried frown, "how long has this been happening again?"
"A few hours, I guess," she huffed, "but, I mean – my back always hurts now, it's been aching on and off for weeks. It's only been really bad for a couple days now."
"Do you think coming over a good idea?" Al bit at his thumbnail, concerned, "should I take you to the doctor?"
"I don't think these are contractions. And, like, isn't it too soon, anyway? Doctor Mosely said I wouldn't be due until the end of the month; I've got a couple weeks left."
Al's expression was still full of doubt when she looked at him on her next go around, and Michelle made a face at him, "don't stress out, it's fine. Can you change the channel to something else?"
"But HGTV!" Al protested, "You love HGTV! They're gonna do a Property Brothers marathon in a bit, come on!"
"I don't want to watch Property Brothers today. I wanna watch a movie."
"There aren't any good movies on today, it's Wednesday!"
"Don't you have a million DVD's? Put something on!"
Al threw his hands up, "fine! But you have to pick the movie, since you wanna watch one so bad."
Michelle scowled at him, and Al scowled right back, not budging an inch for her. "Fine," she snapped, shuffling over to the bookcase in the corner, filled with DVD's.
She blindly plucked one off the shelf, going to the couch to shove it into Al's hands before resuming her frustrated pacing, viciously digging her hands into her back.
Sighing, Al looked at the case in his hands, brightening up slightly when he saw the cover, "Oh, Robin Hood, nice! Even when you're grumpy you still have good taste."
Al quickly put the DVD in, and soon the living room was filled with the sound of whistling. Michelle found herself walking in time to the intro, stepping along to the beat while Al hummed along.
For a while, it was a good distraction, and helped bring Michelle out of her restless pacing. She was even able to sit for a minute, perched on the arm of the couch and leaning against Al for support. About half an hour into the movie, Michelle murmured about needing to use the restroom and swayed onto her feet, meandering down the hall.
Fifteen minutes later, Al looked around and noticed that Michelle hadn't come back, and stood up to look for her, leaving the movie as they sang about the phony king of England.
He checked the bathroom, but it was empty, and after ducking into his room and the office and finding nothing, Al assumed that Michelle had resumed her pacing up front.
His hunch found her in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with folded arms as she groaned low and long under her breath. "My back, god, my back is killing me," she moaned, twisting her hips to and fro to try and alleviate the pain.
Alarm bells started to go off in his head, and Al really started to get concerned. "Michelle, c'mere, let's sit down for a second." He grabbed her hand, placing his other hand at the small of her back, and slowly began to lead her toward the couch, "I'll get you some ice water, and heat up the rice again for you –"
"Al, that won't work, it won't do –"
A muscle in her back twisted something awful, and she buckled forward with a small cry. Al caught her before she could lose her balance, pulled her close just as something splashed to the floor.
Al looked at the small puddle on his kitchen floor, and then looked at Michelle, who was staring at the liquid and the soaked insides of her legs, uncomprehending.
"Fuck." Al finally said, numb shock finally giving way to panic because Michelle's water broke. Her water broke in his goddamn kitchen, her water broke and fuck, oh god, this baby was coming.
"Fuck." Al said again, with more feeling. "Fuck – okay. Okay, Michelle. Okay, don't freak out, it's fine, it's okay –"
"But the doctor said a couple more weeks," Michelle said, still numb, "she said – she said it'd be a couple more weeks, she – she said, and I –"
"Yeah, yeah she did," Al agreed, quickly pulling a few paper towels off the roll and cleaning off Michelle's legs, "she said a couple weeks, I know, but Michelle, this baby is coming now. We gotta get you out of here."
"Oh god." Michelle's breathing started to come in rapidly, a chill settling over her as she was gripped with the strongest panic she's ever felt. Al ripped more paper towels off the roll and threw them to the floor, trying to clean up as best and as quickly as he could before Michelle passed out on him.
"Michelle, breathe," Al urged her, tossing the soiled paper towels into the trash before grabbing her hands, "just breathe. C'mon, let's go put on your shoes and get you out of here."
"My bag –" she was starting to hyperventilate now, hands shaking in Al's, "we – my hospital bag, it's at the house, I need –"
Sucking in a sharp breath, Michelle clutched at Al's hands as a pain the likes she's never felt gripped her, turning whatever else she was going to say into a strangled groan.
"Holy fuck, we need to get out of here now." Al quickly strode to the front door, scooping up Michelle's shoes as he slipped his own onto his feet. Returning to the kitchen, he kneeled down, carefully picked her feet up one at a time and slid them into her shoes. "Can you walk?" he asked, anxious, "or is it just better for me to carry you to the car?"
"I can walk, I can – I can do that much, at least."
She shoved herself away from the counter as Al rose to his feet, and he wrapped his arm around her as they made their way to the door. "Okay," he was saying as he scooped up his car keys and herded them out the apartment, leaving the movie on and everything; he'll have to apologize for the half cleaned mess he left later. Arthur and Marie would definitely understand once he got to explaining.
"Okay, Michelle, it's just one step at a time, you've got this."
He helped her down the stairs, one at a time, and Al felt terrible for living on the second floor, wished he could scoop Michelle up and carry her down. But she said she could do this, and he won't disrespect that.
"Good!" He praised when they finally made it down the stairs, "Alright, Michelle, we've just gotta get to the car and then we're home free, okay?"
"Yeah," she huffed, "yeah, it's fine, we can do this, just hurry."
So they quickly ambled down the sidewalk to where Al's car was parked, a little red Toyota, and he rushed to the passenger side to unlock it and help Michelle inside. "This wasn't how I wanted my day to go," she groaned, sinking back into the seat while Al shut the door and rushed to the driver's side.
"Yeah, well, same." Al started the car with a harsh twist of his wrist, and the car rumbled to life, "if we make it to the hospital in time, we can marathon Property Brothers while you suffer."
Michelle huffed out a whisper of a laugh at Al's attempt of a joke, and then they were off, Al peeling out the parking lot and onto the street as fast as he dared.
one more chapter and then it's all done, hell yeah